University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE 1st.

—The Temple of Jupiter.
CALCHAS.
The light'ning flash'd—the Spirit claims revenge—
Dark prophecies, of old obscurely veil'd
Flash on the sight—the son shall slay his mother!
Soul of the guilty! melt with fear! shake earth!
While Justice from her adamantine throne
Looks down, and says, “Be done.”—

PYLADES
enters.
Some danger low'rs.—
They are not at the tomb—forlorn Orestes
Who shall protect thee now?

CALCHAS.
—The pow'r who sent him.
Wait thou the destin'd time—

PYLADES.
Yet, Seer! reflect,
The horrors of the scene, the gloom of death,
The invocation of a vengeful spirit,
The call and summons to a mother's murder,
And that portentous signal which confounds
The faculties of man: these, singly, shake
Minds of firm texture: and combin'd 'gainst one
Of soul so deeply agonis'd, at once
May o'erturn reason.—Hah!

(seeing Arcas enter.)
ARCAS.
Time-honor'd Calchas.—

PYLADES.
Ha!—can it be?—thou never hast betray'd us—

ARCAS.
They might have torn my body, limb by limb,
These lips were clos'd for ever.

PYLADES.
What preserv'd thee?

ARCAS.
The visible arm and agency of heav'n.—

CALCHAS.
Hear, son of Strophius!
And, in still reverence bow before the Gods.

PYLADES.
Relate what pass'd.

ARCAS.
I stood before Ægisthus.
'Twas noontide: bright the sun, the monarch rode
In pomp of triumph. Then while loud his slaves
Shouted “Behold a God,” from cloudless heav'n
Jove shot the lightning down, and all was still.

CALCHAS.
They knew not what it meant—I watch'd the bolt
That flash'd portentous, as the answ'ring spirit
Claim'd vengeance.

ARCAS.
Unappall'd, the tyrant rag'd:
Again the lightning struck, his steeds transfixt
Fell breathless. On his seat the monarch leapt
Upright: his rent robes flutter'd, and his hair
Stream'd loosely, sing'd with flame: but, in his eye
Pride glow'd, and indignation: and his brow
Uplifted, hurl'd defiance 'gainst the God.
He mock'd at heav'n, and earth: and, at the sight
Of me in chains, smil'd in contemptuous mood,
And bad me join the feast.

Attendant
enters.
Prophet! Ægisthus
Now summons thee.

CALCHAS.
Say, I attend. Go, thou—
(To Arcas.)
Murderer! I will confront thee, and each word
Of prescient truth, to every ear, but thine,
Shall mark thy imminent death!

Electra, and Orestes close veil'd, enter.
PYLADES.
Electra here!
Why thus close veil'd? (to Orestes.)
why this mysterious silence?

ELECTRA.
—(to Pylades.)
Speak to him. (to Orestes.)
'Tis thy friend—'tis Pylades.

ORESTES.
Bid him avoid me—say is Calchas here?

PYLADES.
Orestes! look upon me—

ORESTES.
Touch me not—
Away—unveil not this devoted head.

PYLADES.
Come to my arms.

ORESTES.
My touch conveys pollution—

PYLADES.
Whate'er thy doom, 'tis mine—

ORESTES
—(uncovering himself.)
Let all avoid me:
This head is self-devoted to the Furies.

PYLADES.
What words are these? explain their awful meaning.
Wilt thou not speak?

ORESTES.
I dare a nameless deed:
And now fate summons to a conference,
That more than death appals me.

PYLADES.
Oh!

ORESTES.
Nay sigh not—
No pitying sigh, no sound of soothing voice
Must now be heard by me. Such sounds would melt me.
I have held conference with a form of night:
My powers, each sense, and living faculty,
My soul, and its affections, all are bound
To beings that inhabit other worlds:
To this estrang'd and dead—Calchas! prepare
The solemn rites—

CALCHAS.
Come.

ORESTES
—(going, turns back.)
Pylades—Electra—

ELECTRA.
Oh brother!—brother!

PYLADES.
More than life belov'd!

ORESTES.
Friend! Sister! Oh I dare not say—farewel!

(Exit with Calchas.
PYLADES.
Selected minister of Jove! farewel!

ELECTRA.
Avenger of a murther'd sire! farewel!
He hears, and waves me back—I now may weep—
Thou, whom I look on with a sister's eye,
Oh think not harshly of me, that a woman
Excites to vengeance—bear with me, I pray—
My heart is overcharg'd, and I have never
Found friendly ear, wherein I dar'd to breathe,
The whisper of a woe—

PYLADES.
You see a brother—

ELECTRA.
Not nature, but dire wrongs have steel'd Electra.
Thou heard'st his words; each sense, and faculty,
His soul, and his affections (so he spake)
Were dead to earth, estrang'd from human kind.
And wherefore dead to earth? alas! his spirit
Had commun'd with th'unearthly—with whom then
Has lorn Electra commun'd? kindred beings?
Had I a mother? no—a murthress rear'd me.
What love? what cares? what counsel? what example
Such as debase the soul, to vilest passions
Give brute excess: such as to name, shall never
Pollute my virgin lip.

PYLADES.
I pity thee—

ELECTRA.
No pity—spare me that—I am high soul'd—
How else had I existed? how sustain'd
While youth decay'd, year after year, to see
A base adulterer in Atrides' robes,
O'er me extend the sceptre of my race,
And when a tear gush'd forth, insult my woe?
Hear him revile my father's memory:
And, if I look'd but stern, bid Phrygian slaves
Chain my free hands? so have I liv'd for vengeance—
Dread, unexampled vengeance.

PYLADES.
Such dire wrongs
Pass human sufferance. Would I might assist thee!

ELECTRA.
Thou can'st assist me—thou like one from heav'n
Can'st soothe Electra.

PYLADES.
Can this dagger aid thee!

ELECTRA.
Brave youth! Orestes' arm is strongly nerv'd—
From thee I ask no act of blood, but one
Of unexampled kindness—

PYLADES.
Speak thy wish.

ELECTRA.
Hear then—Orestes nurst a woe in secret,
That prey'd upon his mind: from thee withheld,
Kindly withheld, lest it should shock thy nature:
Or, in th'unguarded transport of affection,
Bind thee in fellowship of woe with him
To nameless sufferings—

PYLADES.
Unkind Orestes!

ELECTRA.
The Oracle decreed—
E'en from the moment that he strikes the murthress,
Her persecuting Furies should pursue him,
'Till from the Tauric shrine he bring to Greece
One sacred to Diana—in his flight,
Mid the wild ravings of a mind distraught,
This too was told—“that one of all who live
“Alone should tend his woe.”

PYLADES.
Jove here my vow!
That charge be mine!

ELECTRA.
Not if Electra live;
But, what the issue of this day of blood
Who who can tell? when danger calls Orestes
I shall not stand aloof—if there I perish
Remember thou thy oath—

PYLADES.
'Tis seal'd in heav'n.

ELECTRA.
Farewel heroic youth! live thou renown'd
The theme of future ages! at the name
Of Pylades, let friendship hail the sound,
And tears, like mine, from glowing transport gush—

(Exeunt.
SCENE changes to Clytemnestra's apartment.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
(walking to and fro in apparent agitation.)
The stranger youth! he comes not! Phedra left him
Unmindful of the passing revellers
Lone in the outward court—she bad him enter,
Said, that I thrice had summon'd him: He groan'd,
And seem'd most loath to come!—why loth to come?
And whence these throbs portentous at my heart,
As if the soul unknowing what the woe
Gave presage of misfortune?—Ha! I hear
Their tread—they come—oh how they linger! sure
I catch their echoed voices—

PHEDRA
—(behind the scenes.)
Here—I pray thee
Enter—why turn away?

ORESTES
—(behind the scenes.)
Oh horror! horror!

CLYTEMNESTRA.
(rushing out, returns leading in Orestes—Phedra follows.)
Here—here—why this reluctance? thou, keep watch,
Strict watch, that none approach: no curious ear
Lurk nigh this chamber—hence— (Phedra goes)
—none hear us now.
Why this repugnance, youth?

ORESTES.
Let me depart.

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Why dost thou tremble, stranger?

ORESTES.
Grief—deep grief
Breeds strange confusion. I would fain depart—

CLYTEMNESTRA
—(stopping him.)
Stay youth, thou must not hence—thou fear'st, perhaps,
I shall regard thee with ungracious eye,
For that thy voice, to Clytemnestra, first
Spoke of Orestes' death.

ORESTES.
That, doubtless, that
To common minds were cause to cleave the heart,
Did not a mother hear those piercing words
“Thy Son is dead?”

CLYTEMNESTRA
—(reluctantly.)
He would have murther'd me?

ORESTES.
A mother!—and a son!—oh horrible—
'Tis a sad strife for blood!

CLYTEMNESTRA.
I slew him not.

ORESTES.
Not him—but—

CLYTEMNESTRA
—(highly agitated.)
Stranger!

ORESTES.
Well—thy wish, thy wish—
What would'st thou with me?

CLYTEMNESTRA.
I would win thy favour.

ORESTES.
Oh!

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Why that groan?

ORESTES.
We all have secret griefs—
Briefly disclose thy wish, and let me hence—
For I have that deep woe within my soul
That other's misery can claim no part.

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Would I could sooth thy grief, as thou can'st mine!
To thee I must my inmost heart unbosom—
For tho' thy brow be stern, and strange thy look,
Youth is the time when sympathising pity
Most sways the yielding bosom—thou art young,
And misery, such as mine, will touch thy soul.—

ORESTES.
Oh! oh!

CLYTEMNESTRA.
If thus thy groan, ere thou hast heard it,
Ah! what—when utter'd—Youth! thou see'st before thee,
No queen resplendent in the pomp of pow'r,
Her high soul swelling o'er with boundless bliss.
The wretch, whose cry has never reach'd my ear,
The unfed beggar, shivering at my gate
Is far more blest than I!—He, at the close
Of each sad day, in rest of sleep, may find
Relief from woe: and revel in the dream
That lifts him o'er this world's unequal lot
To feast with Jove—my dream is of the dead—
Of spirits howling in eternal torture—
And when I rise,
'Tis from the bed of visionary horrors
To feel them real—pity, sooth, relieve me!
Fate has decreed that thou of all mankind
Alone can'st free me—

ORESTES.
—I!—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Thou know'st it well—

ORESTES.
I know it—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Turn not thus thy looks away—
Here look on me, and as my eye meets thine,
Give answer—

ORESTES.
Gaze not on me—I will answer—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Has not an oracle been heard by thee?

ORESTES.
'Tis certain.—I have heard prophetic sounds.

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Calchas forewarn'd me—wilt thou not relieve me?
Thy heart is like thy brow: but I have gifts
That shall persuade assent.

ORESTES.
Gifts!—bribes—to me—
For this!—

CLYTEMNESTRA
—(in rage.)
And, I have pow'r, unbounded pow'r,
That shall enforce compliance—

ORESTES
—(full of horror.)
Force!—beware—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Thy pale cheek flashes with unwonted fire:
Again, resistless shudders shake thy frame.
Nay—fear not—let compassion touch thy heart!
Hear, innocent youth! thou know'st not what it is:
Thou hast no stain of blood upon thy soul.
Could'st thou conceive!—no—none but murtherers can,
The tortures that await them!—I have felt them—
I have giv'n answer at the dead of night
To tongueless calls: my couch has been beset
With shapeless forms: the Furies of the slain
Have toss'd their torches round me, and their locks
Knotted with adders—

ORESTES.
Cease—my brain's on fire—
Oh spare me! spare me!

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Meet me on—the spot—
Down from thy brow big drops in horror roll—
(Orestes fixes his eyes on a dagger in the apartment.)
Why are thine eyes fix'd on yon glittering scabbard?

ORESTES.
Spak'st thou not now of gifts?—give me that dagger,
And I will meet thee at the destin'd place.—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
I have rare gems and gold—those shall reward thee:
That steel is nothing worth—

ORESTES.
Give me that dagger—
I'll meet thee on the spot—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Why strangely prize it?—

ORESTES.
What! is it strange that man to battle bred
Should value a man's weapon? one, perhaps
That grac'd 'mid wond'ring chiefs, Atrides' side.
Refuse it, death in tortures ne'er shall daunt me.

CLYTEMNESTRA
—(gives it.)
Thou know'st not with what blade I arm thy hand.

ORESTES
—(full of horror.)
There is no blood on thee, thou shining steel!

(aside, drawing the blade.
CLYTEMNESTRA.
Swear thou wilt meet Ægisthus—

ORESTES
—(ardently interrupting her.)
Aye—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
And me,
At midnight—where—

ORESTES.
Nay, nay, I know it all—
In the blood-sprinkled bath.—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
By oath confirm it.—

ORESTES.
An oath too!—by my Father's memory!

CLYTEMNESTRA
—(gives him two keys.)
Take these—this guards the passage—this, the bath—
Be there—and watch the tread of foot;—if mine,
This hand shall at the portal give the signal—
That heard, admit me.—

ORESTES.
I have sworn—

CLYTEMNESTRA.
Farewel.

(Exeunt.